


Eden

by Little_oblivion



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: 1880s, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Artist Tobin, F/F, Poet Emily, Sweet baby angel Christen, Wild child Kelley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27372331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_oblivion/pseuds/Little_oblivion
Summary: After living a lifetime in her twin sister's shadow, Emily Sonnett is sent to Edenwood, a top girl's school outside of Atlanta, in the hopes that she can learn to shine in her own light and land a husband. But once she arrives, she meets the middle daughter of the famed Atlanta O'Haras. With Kelley's help, will she finally break free of her family's expectations? Or will she be shepherded down the aisle, into a life she desperately doesn't want?
Relationships: Kelley O'Hara/Emily Sonnett, Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 56
Kudos: 102





	1. Emily

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my loves!
> 
> Welcome to my newest story. It will focus on both Sohara and Preath, but Sohara is the main pairing. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

If you were to ask Emma Sonnett, she would say that October 8, 1886 was one of the best days of her entire life. That was the day that Henry, after nearly a year of courting, got down on one knee and asked her to marry him. She had said yes, of course- she ‘d had her mind set on him seemingly from the first moment she saw him.

If you were to ask me, her identical twin sister, Emily, about October 8, 1886, I would tell you it was one of the worst days of my entire life, the beginning of the end.

The funny thing about being an identical twin is that you come into the world with a measuring stick, an exact reminder of how you should be at any given moment. And for as long as I could remember, Emma had been just one step ahead. She was always just a touch taller, a touch slimmer, her hair a touch more golden. She thrived in social situations, always knowing the exact social code to follow.

Our mother was absolutely thrilled, of course. Henry Holcomb came from one of the best families in Savannah. Their union would guarantee Emma a place in high society, a comfortable home with all the comforts and luxuries she could possibly want. It was a perfect match, no doubt one that would produce countless children for Emma, and grandchildren for our mother.

As soon as the engagement was official and Emma had the official meeting with the Holcombs, our mother began arranging a party in celebration. It would be the who’s who of Savannah, a mix of socialites, politicians, and old money. Not that we were particularly wealthy, but when your golden daughter has secured one of the most eligible bachelors in the county, it’s the expected thing to make a big to do.

Not to mention, I couldn’t help but grumble to herself as my mother twisted her mouth in a particular way and gestured for the serving girl to tighten the straps of her corset, my mother also saw this party as an opportunity to not only show off Emma, but perhaps get rid of me while she was at it. Once the corset was deemed tight enough, I was put in a chair and Aoife began the painstaking process of setting my hair in ringlets.

“I talked to Margaret Davis, and she said that her nephews, Clarence and Arthur, are coming tonight. Arthur is widely considered to be the more handsome of the two, but Clarence is the oldest, and he has wonderful prospects. He’s working underneath his father overseeing their shipping company, and he’s poised to take over when he retires.” She shook her finger at me in the mirror. “Make no mistake, he will be able to provide his wife with a very comfortable life.”

“Isn’t Clarence Davis also rather short?” I asked before I could stop myself.

She gave me a look. “A man’s height has very little regard as to what he can provide for his family.” Her eyes slid to Aoife. “Set her hair lower. No need to draw attention to the height disparity.”

She threw open the wardrobe doors and began to examine the dresses within. “Hmm… your sister has decided to wear her white gown, as I recommended, and I think you should wear… this blue gown.” She pulled it out, laying it on the bed. “Yes. This one makes you look quite becoming.”

“Okay.”

“Oh Emily.” She settled herself on the chair beside the vanity. “Would it pain you not to look so downcast at the idea of finding a husband? You look as if I’m preparing you to go out and work fields!”

“Sorry, Mama.”

“Don’t you want to get married?”

“Yes, Mama.” I took a deep breath, forcing a smile. “Of course. And I’ll speak with Clarence Davis tonight, I promise.”

She smiled, her eyes softening. “You’re a good girl, Emily. You’ll make a good wife, a wonderful mother. Any man should be lucky to have you as his bride.”

“Thank you,” I blushed. I wasn’t in any sort of hurry to find a husband, but this rare bit of praise from my mother seemed to warm me from the inside out.

“Now,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’m going to go downstairs and make sure that everything I coming along for the party. Aoife, see to it that you put a bit of rouge on her cheeks. We don’t want anyone thinking she’s ill.” Tender moment over, she swished from the room.

I let out a breath, staring at my own complexion in the mirror. “Aoife?”

“Yes, Miss?”

“Do you have a fella?”

The red haired girl raised her eyes for a moment, then resumed work on my hair. “I… yes, Miss. There’s a fella I’m sweet on. One from my church.”

“Will you be married?”

“Someday, I think.”

“That’s nice.”

The servant hummed a bit under her breath. “My ma had seven babies, the first when she was but twenty. My older sister is twenty five and already has three. And I know it’s the natural order, but I’m in no rush to marry. No rush to start the babies just yet.”

I gripped the edge of my stool. “Nor am I! We are… we are so young, aren’t we Aoife?”

She smiled. “We are, Miss. And… it’s not our mothers’ time, is it? No need to settle into house so quickly. We can be… modern women, and all that. Maybe kiss a few gents before we pick one for life,” she giggled.

“Aoife!” We both startled, turning to find my mother in doorway, a most disapproving look on her face. “Finish Emily’s hair then to the kitchen with you. There’s no need for you to fill my daughter’s head with such… questionable activities! “

Aoife flushed. “Yes, Mistress. Of course.”

I waited until my mother had once again retreated and lowered my voice. “You and I, Aoife, shall be the most modern of ladies. We’ll be quite scandalous.”

She gave a small smile. “Yes, Miss."

* * *

The party guests had gathered, but I was still upstairs with Emma. She stood in front of the floor length mirror, fiddling with the neckline of her gown.

“Leave it, you look lovely.”

“I look like an old biddy,” she complained. “Would it kill Mama to lower it even one half of an inch?”

“Well Emma darling,” I said, pursing my lips in an imitation of our mother. “Class is as class does, and we can’t have you scandalizing the town with the sight of bare bosoms!”

She let out a snorting laugh, and quickly covered her mouth with her hand, turning to poke me in the stomach. “Don’t make me laugh like that downstairs.”

“What’s the harm, you already found Henry.”

“Yes, but what if he hears me snort like a pig and decides to throw me to the sties?”

“Seems rather harsh.”

“Girls?” The housekeeper, Mrs. Lewis, pushed open the door. “It’s time to be presented.” We followed her into the hall, Emma lining up in front of me. “What are you doing?”

“Emma always goes first,” I said, confused. “That way everyone is too enamored to pay attention to my descent.”

Mrs. Lewis seemed to be restraining herself from rolling her eyes. “Which is fine, for a normal occasion, but seeing as it’s Emma’s engagement, she must go second, on Henry’s arm.” She guided me to stand in front of my sister, and my stomach soured. I didn’t want to go first, I could already feel all of those hot eyes on me, watching my every move.

“It’ll be fine,” Emma murmured into my ear. “Just remember to smile, and don’t drop your head to look at the stairs.”

Henry stepped around the corner and gave my sister a charming smile and a half bow. “Hello there. Don’t you look beautiful?”

She smiled, ducking her head. “Good evening, Henry.”

“Come, Emily,” Mrs. Lewis commanded. I stepped forward and my father turned to address the room.

“May I present, my lovely daughter, Emily Ann Sonnett.”

I took a deep breath, putting on my best smile. Everyone in the room was now staring, watching, judging. I began my descent down the staircase. I rested my hand lightly along the banister, as I had been taught, never gripping, never holding, but running along it. By the time I was halfway down, my stomach had slowly begun to unclench. I was doing fine. If the look on my mother’s face was anything to judge by, I might even be doing well.

And then the heel of my shoe caught on the edge of the stairs, sending me sprawling forward, down the last five steps.

I seemed to somehow hit an elbow or knee on each stair, eventually landing face down on the floor at our guests’ feet. Immediately my father was there, helping me to my feet, but the damage was already done. Titters had broken among the ladies and several men looked to be concealing smirks. I reluctantly looked up to find my mother with her eyes closed, as if she could make me disappear from view merely from pure force of will.

He helped me move to the side and I tried my best not to limp, acting as if I hadn’t just humiliated myself in front of the entire Savannah social scene. “And of course, my wife and I proud to present our daughter, Emma Jane Sonnett, and her newly betrothed, Henry Sherman Holcomb.”

My sister floated down on Henry’s arm looking like a dandelion on the wind, the very picture of grace and sophistication. I wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground.

Dinner was soon served after, and I found myself sitting across from none other than Clarence Davis. He stood up as my father led me to my seat, and I realized I had been unfair in my previous estimates. He was not rather short- indeed, he was tiny.

He nodded. “Miss Sonnett.”

“Mr. Davis.” We both took our seats among the others. “You are looking well,” I said, eyes on my place setting.

“As are you. Are you feeling… quite well?”

“Quite,” I replied.

“Good.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I faltered, unsure of how to proceed in the face of such a stimulating conversational partner. “The weather has been quite rainy, hasn’t it?”

He furrowed his brows. “Hm? Oh, yes quite. Quite rainy, in fact. One of our ships was caught in a storm a few weeks ago.”

“Oh my.”

He didn’t offer any more information, and I didn’t press on, instead smiling gratefully as the first course was placed in front of me. We spent the rest of dinner occasionally making awkward eye contact over our salads.

After dinner came the dancing, a truly horrible affair of smiling as I was stiffly moved about the dance floor by various men, old, young, in between. I tried to keep all the various etiquette rules straight in my mind: not entering or leaving the ballroom unattended, not dancing too much with any one man, being careful to take the men’s arm and not their hand. It was all truly too much for any person to stand, especially me.

I couldn’t have been more grateful when the night came to an end, the guests bidding their adieus so that I could steal upstairs. Aoife helped me out of my gown and my stays. She unpinned my hair and I let my eyes fall shut, luxuriating in the feel of her nails scratching gently against my scalp.

“Emily Ann!” My eyes snapped open to find my mother behind me, staring indignantly at my reflection.

“I’m sorry-” I began to apologize immediately, but she held up her hand.

“What in heaven’s name!”

“I didn’t mean to fall.”

She scoffed. “Well I should hope not!” She let out a long suffering sigh. “All those years of deportment lessons, and for what? You can’t even be trusted to walk down the staircase of your own home, stairs you’ve been climbing since you could walk, without falling on your face, embarrassing us in front of all of the good people of Savannah!”

“All of the rich people, you mean,” I muttered under my breath.

She delivered a stinging smack to my shoulder with the fan in her hand. “I will not suffer your smart mouth.”

“Mama, it was an accident. My heel caught-”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s what Augusta Whitaker will report at her afternoon tea this week! That it was an accident!”

“But it was!” I argued.

She shook her head. “Emily, you are not in a position where you can make mistakes! The time has come for you to find a husband-” I stood up from the stool, turning to face her with my arms crossed.

“Yes, Mama, a husband, I know! I need to find a husband, just like Emma, or else the world shall cease to operate as we know it! The clouds will fall from sky, the tides will come to a halt, even the sun will surely refuse to shine for fear of warming my spinster back!”

She narrowed her eyes. “This is not the time for your jokes,” she whispered harshly.

I took a deep breath, reaching out for her. “I have time, Mama.”

“Time!” She laughed miserably. “You know nothing of time. Your father and I have been far too indulgent with you. Time, she says! Did you even speak with Clarence tonight?”

“Yes, Mama, I did.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“His family lost a ship in a storm this past week.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” she snapped.

I threw up my hands. “I don’t know! But that’s all he had to say!”

She sucked a breath in through her nose, shaking her head at me. “Emily. What will we do with you?”

The absolute anguish in her eyes drained me of my righteous irritation. “I’m trying, Mama. Really, I am. I promise, I’m trying.”

She nodded slowly. “I know you are, I just…” She looked lost for words. “It’s late. You should get some sleep.”

“Goodnight, Mama. I love you.”

She smiled, briefly cupping my cheek, then swept out the door.

Behind me, Aoife quietly cleared her throat, reminding me she was in the room. “Shall I turn down your blankets, Miss?”

“Yes. Thank you.” She helped me into bed and then began to exit, but I called out before she could. “Aoife?”

“Yes, Miss?”

“Did… did you see me fall?”

“No, Miss.”

I gave her a look. “But you heard word of it? From the other servants?” She nodded. “Was it truly as bad as she says?” Her face told me everything I needed to know, and I fell back onto the pillows with a groan.

“Don’t worry, Miss. I’m sure a modern lady such as yourself will be just fine. Husband or no.” She gave me a wink.

This coaxed a small laugh from me. “Good night, Aoife.”

“Good night, Miss.” She slipped from the room, taking the candle with her, and I stared up into the darkness, willing sleep to take me quickly so I could stop replaying the evening’s events.


	2. Emily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Women's Wednesday!!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3

_Woman was made of Adam,_   
_‘Tis said._   
_Yet still I look,_   
_I search for my origin._   
_I cannot be of Adam_   
_For my soul yearns to run— to fly!_   
_The sparrow looks upon me,_   
_Reproachful,_   
_And builds her nest,_   
_But tis not I who errs:_   
_Fly, little sparrow, anon!_   
_Take wing from this place,_   
_And may my weary soul find tenement among your feathers._   
_Carry me home, oh sweet one!_   
_Carry on till somber daybreak._

_ES, October 25, 1886_

I walked down River Street, no particular destination in mind. The clouds that had been dominating the skies above Savannah had taken a momentary absence, and the sky was big and blue, a secondary ocean above our heads.

Strictly speaking, I hadn’t been expressly forbidden to walk down by the docks, but I knew that if my mother were here she would take me by the arm and march me towards the main streets, away from where the ‘unsociables’ tended to congregate. I, on the other hand, found the docks to be wildly fascinating. Men from all over the world, of every country that I’d ever heard of and some I hadn’t, came through our port. They represented races and religions so different from my own, and they existed in the peace that comes with hard, manual labor. Women were about too, fish mongers and stall workers, not to mention the occasional woman of ill repute. They walked and they worked and they laughed, and I couldn’t help the small part of myself that wondered if, even if my mother would label these women as below us, if they didn’t have some small victory in that they seemed to have a small modicum of control over their lives.

The thought made me sigh. If I wasn’t constantly being told what to do and how to be, what would be left? Where would I go? What might I do? Who could I meet?

It was a nice thought, but ultimately I knew that it wasn’t worth the wonder. I had a duty to fulfill and I would do it. No amount of ‘might’ could change that.

I kept walking, eventually finding a park across from a church and settling down on a bench. Again, not expressly forbidden, but I shivered at the thought of Mama knowing I was out without any sort of chaperone, roaming the streets. I pulled my small leatherbound notebook from my pocket and shut my eyes. I took a deep breath, letting the day be washed away, tucking away the memory of Emma’s engagement party. I took up the pencil I’d brought along and began to write.

Ever since I was a little girl, writing had brought me a beautiful sense of joy. It was like my thoughts and feelings would get wrapped up inside my head, clinging to each other like wet chemises on a clothesline. But as soon as I put pen to paper, they would slowly unspool, the words pouring onto the page and leaving me under undulating waves of peace. The medium had fluctuated over the years: short stories, journal entries, feeble attempts at plays and novels. But a few years earlier I had taken a run at poetry and it had stuck. They weren’t Wordsworth by any means, but they proved to be the one thing that could help me make sense of the world when everything felt cruel and wrong.

I glanced up from my notebook and was alarmed to see that the sun was far higher in the sky than I expected. I quickly tucked it away and rearranged my wrap, hurrying along the park path towards home.

I slipped through the side door into the kitchen, finding it full of servants, hard at work to prepare lunch. A few glanced up at me, regarding me with suspicious looks, but most ignored me. I bustled out of their way, through the opposite door. I made for the staircase, but only made it a few steps before being caught.

“And where have you been?”

I turned to see Mrs. Lewis standing in the foyer, her hands on her hips. “I… was up in my room.” When she continued to give me an unimpressed look, I continued, “And then I went on a short walk.”

“Alone?” Her voice was shrill, displeased.

“I didn’t go too far,” I lied.

She sighed unhappily. “Lunch will be served soon. See to it that you don’t disappear before then.” She gave a sharp nod, as if telling herself that she done the best she possibly could with me, then disappeared into the parlor.

I continued upstairs, chastised but unrepentant, and ran into Emma. “Where have you been?”

I sighed. “And to think that sometimes I feel as if people don’t notice when I’m in a room.”

She crossed her arms. “Mama has been looking for you.”

“Well I’m here now.”

She followed me into my bedroom. “Where were you?”

I gave her an exasperated look. “I just went for a walk. Nothing monumental, I assure you.” I sat at my desk and she collapsed rather gracelessly back onto my bed. “I’m sorry, should I have invited you?” I laughed.

“I don’t like going for walks,” she grumbled.

“I know. Hence why I didn’t ask.”

“If the sun’s out then you start to sweat. Not to mention the smells, and all of the people…” She gave a shudder. “Horrid.”

There was a knock on my door and Mrs. Lewis stuck her head in. “Time for lunch, girls.”

Our mother was already seated when we got downstairs. “So nice of you to join us, Emily. I’ve been looking for you all morning.”

“I’m sorry, Mama.”

“Where were you?”

“Just a small walk to stretch my legs.”

She hummed, turning her attention momentarily to the food. I took a bite of my potatoes.

“You know, I had the most stimulating of conversations yesterday with Lillian Ferrell.”

I wrinkled my forehead. “You said that Mrs. Ferrell is a haughty old bore.”

She gave me a look. “Don’t furrow your brow that way. She had many interesting things to say. We talked of the weather and the coming holidays and her husband’s health. Oh, and she also was talking about her niece, Beulah.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. She said that while she’s a lovely girl, that she was lacking a certain… je nais se quois. She was an accomplished seamstress and pianist, but was still having a difficult time securing a husband.”

“How dreadful,” I murmured, shooting a face towards Emma, making her hide a laugh behind her napkin.

“That is, of course, until she was sent to Edenwood.”

I turned back to her, “Edenwood?”

She nodded primly. “Yes. It’s one of the top finishing schools in the state, just outside of Atlanta. They have a reputation for absolute excellence. Classes in music, literature, arithmetic, deportment, their girls truly receive a robust education.”

“How nice.”

“And the grounds! Lillian said that Beulah wrote letters describing a wonderful pond and horse stables. She said she made very dear friends there.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Emma chimed in.

“And of course, after only six months there, she met a young man at a mixer, and now they’re married and expecting a baby!”

“Hoorah for Beulah Ferrell,” I cracked, earning a disapproving twist of her mouth.

She speared a carrot on her fork, holding it delicately in front of her. “It made me think, Emily… how you might like a place like that.”

I blinked at her. “Me?”

“Well, I’m not very well speaking to Emma, now am I?”

“I… but I’m happy here.”

She sighed heavily. “My dear, you think you’re happy here. But soon Emma will be getting married and moving in with Henry, and then what? You’ll continue to roam about the house like a remorseful spirit? Scribbling away in your notebooks? Disappearing to walk the streets like a common crook?”

“I…”

“Just think! Edenwood could give you that last bit of polishing required to make the world see what I look at you: a beautiful woman, one with countless gifts, who would prove to be a dutiful wife and loving mother.”

My stomach ached. “This is my home.”

She gave me a long suffering look. “I am aware. But I think you are allowing yourself to be willfully ignorant of the fact that you are no longer a child! The time has come to spread your wings and leave your nest-”

“I fly very well on my own!” I snapped, coming to my feet.

“Emily!”

“I do not need to be… boarded like an unbroken horse, penned away in the hopes of them sending back a more satisfactory product!” My face was hot, my heart racing in my chest as if I was being attacked. But then- what was this if not being snatched, unsuspecting from my inconsequential life?

“For goodness sake, calm down. Sit and eat your lunch.”

I returned to my chair but did not pick up my fork. “Mama, I’m happy here. With you! And Emma, and Father, and…”

“And who?” she asked as I tapered off. “What friends do you have to speak of? Aoife? She’s not your friend Emily, she’s your servant. And if we didn’t pay her wages she would gladly spit on you in the street.” She sighed heavily. “Perhaps it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let the two of you become so reliant on each other. I should have foreseen the way it would make you weak.”

I chanced a glance at Emma, whose eyes were trained on her plate. “I am not weak,” I whispered. “I just… I don’t see why the situation must be treated in such a dire manner. I have time, Mama. And… and I’ll try harder!” I assured her. “After all… I spoke with Clarence Davis at Emma’s engagement party! We danced. Perhaps I might write him a letter.”

She gave me an appraising look. “I thought that you found him to be rather short.”

“I… see now that his stature does not limit his positive assets.”

She smiled. “I think a letter would be lovely.”

I turned my eyes back to my food, pushing down the panic in my chest. Once we were dismissed I followed Emma dutifully up the stairs, bypassing my own room to slip into hers.

“What was that?” I hissed once the door was shut. “What is she thinking?”

“Emily-”

“And you didn’t say a word! You didn’t even…” I paused, struck by a thought. “You knew already. You weren’t surprised.”

She took a deep breath. “She mentioned it this morning, while we were discussion wedding plans. We were talking about the dress and I said that the three of us would go to the dressmaker, and she said that you wouldn’t be able to come because you would be in Atlanta.”

“So her mind is already made up!” The air seemed to be growing thinner, as if my freedom was already being sucked away.

“Calm down.” She grabbed my hands. “It’s not decided yet, but only if you keep your head.”

I was ashamed of the tears in my voice as I whispered, “That’s easy for you to say. The golden daughter, Emma Jane-”

“Stop that!” she cried. “Do you think this is happy news to me? Hearing that she plans to send you away, just when I need you most? I can’t-” She swallowed. “I’m scared, Emily. My entire life is about to change and I need you here for that. I can’t lose you.” She threw her arms around me, hugging me close. “I need you here.”

“I don’t want to go,” I whispered.

“Then we won’t let it happen.” She pulled back and took me by the shoulders. “That was good thinking with Clarence Davis. He’ll work nicely until we can find a man you truly do like.”

“What if…” I licked at my lips. “What if I can’t find a man that I like?”

She smiled. “Then it just means that you have good taste, and you’re holding out for the best. And, well I already have Henry, so that must be a disappointment.” I gave a shaky laugh and she squeezed my shoulders. “We’ll find you a husband, Emily. We’ll find someone who makes you happy. I promise.”

Bolstered by my sister’s assurances, I put the matter of Edenwood from my head. After dinner, Emma helped me begin to craft the beginnings of a letter to Clarence, both of us laughing and moaning over how wholly boring the man had proved himself to be at her engagement party. I’d gone to sleep relieved that my twin had devoted herself to helping me find a man that didn’t make me cringe at the thought of marrying him.

But the next evening at dinner, my father placed his silverware down and fixed with his intense stare. “Emily, your mother tells me she spoke to you about The Edenwood School.”

I tried my best to school my expression. “She… did. Yes, we discussed it.”

“And?”

I swallowed, trying to choose my words carefully. “While I admire their repute and record, I don’t think I necessarily would benefit from their instruction.”

“You don’t?”

I shook my head. “No, sir. In fact, Emma is helping me write him Clarence Davis a letter.”

“Clarence Davis?” He stroked at his beard for a moment. “He’s a little fellow, isn’t he?”

My mother’s fork screeched against the china, and Emma and I both ducked our heads, not daring to catch each other’s eye. 

He took a drink of his sweet tea. “Well the point still stands. You may continue to write to the Davis boy if you wish. He comes from a respectable family and has a sensible profession. However, until such time as an engagement is proposed, I think it will do you good to travel to Edenwood. You will do well under their instruction.”

“But…” The walls seemed to be closing in on me. “But Mama said-”

“I say that you will benefit from pupilage at Edenwood.” His voice left absolutely no room to argue. “I’ve already arranged a stagecoach for you. You’ll leave the morning after tomorrow.”

My mother gave him a look. “Bill! That gives very little time to plan!”

“What needs to be planned?”

“We shall need to arrange her wardrobe, we’ll need to go to the dressmaker…” I faded away, unable to listen to them talk about my future as if I wasn’t in front of them, asking them to reconsider.

Once we were dismissed I got directly into bed, Emma creeping in hold me as I cried. “I don’t want to go,” I sobbed, my tears soaking my pillow.

“I know,” she whispered into my hair. “I don’t want you to either.”

“I’ve never been away from Mama or Father, much less you!”

“Perhaps it will be better than you fear. What if you make friends with the girls there?”

“How will I have the time between all of my wifely lessons?” I asked in a dark whisper.

“Have strength, Emily. This isn’t the end of the world, no matter how much we think it might be.”

“I don’t know who I am without you,” I confided.

She sighed, her breath cool on the overheated skin of the back of my neck. “Then perhaps this is a prudent idea. You deserve for people to see your goodness. Because you are very, very good, Em. Better than I think you realize.”

She stayed with me, holding me and witnessing my anguish, until I finally fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love to hear what you think so far!


	3. Emily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wishing you all a lovely day :)

_Fall takes his merry time._   
_He rambles through the meadows, the orchards._   
_He strokes his hand along the grass, slicking it with dew._   
_He gives us time to think, to plan._   
_Father Winter waits._   
_He watches._   
_He knows that we must all bend to his icy fist._   
_We can only pray that he will be merciful, that he will spare us the casualties of yesteryear._   
_But while we await Father Winter’s bitter judgement,_   
_Fall invites us to sit a spell-_   
_Take a breath-_   
_and remember his great love The Spring, and her eternal promise to never abandon,_   
_And instead come back and thaw us from Father Winter’s clutches._

_ES, October 27, 1886_

The sun hadn’t yet risen, but I had already been up for what felt like hours. My mother had bustled into my room, Aoife in tow, and pulled me from my bed. I’d been pushed into a tub of water where Aoife and another servant scrubbed at my skin till it was pink and smarting. Then I was dried and bustled into my undergarments and my dress. My trunk had been packed the day before, and it was already in the carriage as I came out of the house.

My mother smoothed away a wrinkle in my dress. “Okay. You should arrive at Eden wood around 11 tomorrow. You’ll sleep in the carriage obviously, and the cook prepared you a basket of bread and such to take with you.”

I nodded; we had already gone over all of this.

My father placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Be good Emily Ann,” he said, his voice rumbly and serious. “Make us proud.”

“Yes sir,” I whispered. He pressed a kiss to my cheek, his moustache scratching at my cheek.

My mother put a hand to my face. “This will be good,” she said brightly. “No need to look so morose.”

“I’m just tired,” I lied.

She pulled me into a hug, crushing me close. “Everything will be just fine.”

“I know, Mama.”

Next was Emma, and we both stared at each other as if lost. “I’ll miss you,” I finally offered.

She burst into tears and threw her arms around me, much to my father’s displeasure.

“Girls, get ahold of yourselves,” he ordered gruffly, uncomfortable as always with outward shows of emotion.

“You have to write me every day,” Emma demanded. “Tell me everything that happens, don’t you dare leave a single thing out! And I’ll do the same. It’ll be as if we were still together.”

“I will,” I promised. I pulled her in for another hug. “And we’ll be staring upon the same moon, the same sun, the same stars.”

“We can’t keep the coach, Emily.” I pulled back and climbed inside, arranging my skirts around me. Aoife leaned in and handed me the basket of food, catching hold of my hand.

“You are a modern woman, Emily Ann,” she whispered, her eyes dancing. “Don’t forget that.”

I smiled. “As are you, Aoife. I’ll see you at Christmas.”

“God speed, Miss.” She pulled back and the door was shut. I couldn’t resist the urge to push my face against the glass. My family looked on as the driver cracked the reigns and the carriage took off. I lifted my hand, giving one last wave, which Emma returned. Then the carriage turned a corner, and I could see nothing but darkened houses.

I settled back into my seat, my heart feeling as if it would burst. I was to return for the holiday, but what would I find? How would everything at home have changed? How would I have changed?

I leaned my head back. There was no use in worrying about coming home at the moment; for now, my main concern should be arriving at Edenwood.

X

The carriage came to a stop and I squeezed my eyes shut. Part of me was hoping that this bumpy journey was finally done, while the rest was praying to have a little more time to prepare myself.

No such luck.

The door clicked open and the driver poked his head in. “Miss? We’ve arrived.”

I nodded and he extended his hand, helping me from the cab. My legs were so stiff from being in one position that I nearly pitched forward, and he had to help me find my footing. Once I had straightened up, my eyes were drawn to the rather formidable building in front of us. It rose from the land like a great, charcoal mountain, the flowering bushes along the perimeter doing nothing to soften its appearance. I gazed up, taking note of a few faces peering down at me from windows, ducking out of sight when I attempted to get a better look.

“Miss Sonnett?” I turned to see a sharp eyed woman, her hair pulled tightly into a bun, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Yes?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Headmistress Ellis.”

“How do you do?”

“Quite well, thank you, dear. How was the carriage ride?”

“Bumpy,” I answered before I could think of a more graceful answer. In my limited defense, I hadn’t been able to get much sleep propped upright in my corset.

She merely raised a single eyebrow before gesturing to the driver. “Bring in the trunk, please. Miss Sonnett, let me show you to your room.”

It was a bedroom in that it contained two narrow single beds. A wooden wardrobe stood along one wall, and it contained a table with a bowl and pitcher for washing up. But it lacked any personal effects that might have suggested that anyone lived there on a regular basis.

“Do I not have a roommate?” I asked.

“Samantha. She is in the farthest bed,” she answered with a tight lipped smile.

“Oh.”

“Surely you don’t have an objection?”

No! I just… I didn’t see any of her belongings,” I explained, my eyes still darting about the space.

“Here at Edenwood, we expect our girls to keep their spaces tidy and neat. After all, cleanliness is next to godliness!”

“Of course,” I agreed.

She pulled what curiously looked like a man’s pocket watch from her skirt. “I’m sure you wish to freshen up after such a strenuous journey. It’s half past eleven now. You will hear the bell ring at noon, and you’ll come down to join your peers for lunch.” She started for the door then turned back. “I’ll send in one of the servants. She can help you arrange your hair.” And with another tight smile, she left, the door clicking ominously closed behind her.

I sat on my new bed and let out a breath, my fingers plucking absently at the white quilt. What was I doing here? What would become of me?

How long before everyone here realized what I already knew deep down, that something in me, something I’d long tried to smother, refused to conform to the life that had been laid out so carefully before me?

I had been afraid that I wouldn’t be able to find my way to lunch, but the servant who helped me rebraid my hair pointed out the way. My palms felt moist, and I tried to discreetly wipe them on my skirt. I stepped into the dining room, and felt as if every face in the room turned to stare. Surely this couldn’t be the case, but I felt it all the same. My heart seemed to twist in my chest, unsure of how to proceed, when a tall girl approached me with a smile.

“You’ve arrived!”

“Uh… yes. I have,” I answered, unsure of who she was.

“I’m Samantha, we’re to share a room.”

“Oh! Of course.”

She gave a wide smile. “Come, you must sit by me.”

I followed, grateful. The food we were served was tasty, if the serving sizes were a bit small. I could only guess that this was to dissuade us from needing to loosen our corsets, even an inch. The meal was quiet, nearly silent, but that didn’t mean that conversations weren’t being had. Up and down the long tables, eyes were meeting, conveying thoughts, questions, declarations. I could only imagine that some, or maybe most, concerned me.

After we were dismissed, Samantha took my arm and steered me from the room. “I’m so glad that you’re here,” she confided in a low voice. "My other roommate left several weeks ago, and it’s been ever so lonely.”

“I can only imagine.”

“I grew up sharing a room with my older sister, it just makes the evening a little less dark when you know someone else is sleeping just a few feet away.”

I smiled. “I know exactly what you mean. I have a twin, Emma. Being without her is…”

“Oh, being apart must be dreadful!” We arrived at a doorway and she gave me a surreptitious squeeze. “Time for Literature. We’ll talk more later.”

“Right.” I filed into the room behind the other girls and took a seat towards the back. Or, I tried to at least. A sharp faced girl in a mauve gown approached me.

“You’re in my seat.”

“Oh!” I popped to my feet. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“What’s your name?”

“Emily. Emily Sonnett.”

She tilted her head. “Where are you from?”

“Savannah.”

Her lips curled into a cross between a smile and a sneer. “Is that so…”

“Ladies, to your seats!” The man at the front of the room called out. She slid into the seat I had just vacated and I scanned the room, searching for an open chair. He cleared his throat. “Up here, Miss…”

“Sonnett.” I hurried forward to take the only available desk, in the front row next to a girl with white blonde hair.

He gave a sharp nod. “Miss Sonnett, welcome to your weekly literature lesson, I am Mr. Harrington. Now, onto today’s lesson: critiquing Jane Eyre.” My heart leapt in my chest; not only had I read Jane Eyre, I had been somewhat obsessed with it. Reading Charlotte Bronte’s words seemed to strike a chord deep within me. In her Jane I found perhaps a better mirror than my actual twin; Emma would never understand Jane and I’s feelings of being ‘obscure, plain, and little.’

“When we finished yesterday, we were contrasting Mr. Rochester with St. John. It is pure romance to not see that St. John was a more apt match for our young heroine.”

I couldn’t help but furrow my brow. St. John? The severe and boring cousin who would make Clarence Davis look like the king of the ball?

The teacher turned, mouth open, but paused when his eyes fell on me. “It would seem that you disagree with me, Miss Sonnett?”

“I was just… surprised, sir.”

“And why is that?”

“Because… St. John doesn’t actually have feelings for Jane. He’s very clear about this, he’s in love with Rosamund. He only proposes to Jane because he thinks she would be an acceptable missionary’s wife. What sort of marriage would that make?”

He stared at me. “A Godly one. Surely a better marriage than one conceived through deceit. Are you suggesting that Jane should have consented to being… kept? As a mistress or courtesan?”

I resisted the urge to shrink underneath his supercilious gaze. “No sir. But wouldn’t… wouldn’t it have been better for Jane to strike out on her own, as a woman secure in her faith and piousness, while not committing herself to be nothing more than a glorified housekeeper to St. John?”

“Strike out on her own?” He gave his head a mighty shake. “An extraordinarily foolish idea! Where would she go? Where would she live? What would her life be? No, Miss Sonnett, what you suggest is… bordering upon lunacy. And blasphemy! It is the natural order, as handed down by the Lord himself, that woman submit to man. He said so in Ephesians. Do you deny it?”

“No sir. The apostle Paul does state that wives should submit to their husbands, but then immediately says that husbands should love their wives as Christ loved the church. So surely, one must come alongside the other.”

“It is not good to be alone, we are told so in Genesis. The fanciful idea that Jane would have been better alone than with St. John is basely unsupported and goes against the very values we teach in this school.”

I couldn’t bite my tongue. “Begging your pardon, but Genesis actually says that it is not good for _man_ to be alone. Woman is not mentioned.”

His face turned an alarming shade of red. “Impertinence will not be tolerated here, Miss Sonnett. And to make sure that you do not forget as much, you will be punished. Come to my desk, please.”

My stomach sinking, I did as he said. He retrieved a wooden yardstick and gestured towards his desk. “Bend over, if you please. Facing your classmates, hands clutching the edge.” I did as instructed, my heart racing. I could do nothing but stare at the faces of the other girls, some wide eyed, some sympathetic, some, like the girl whose seat I’d accidentally taken, looked almost gleeful. I only had a moment to ponder this before the yardstick was brought down with a sharp whack across my bottom.

I couldn’t silence my sharp gasp. True, my many layers of undergarments and skirts helped dull the blows, but he seemed to be adjusting his force accordingly. By the third swat, I could feel my face warming, my eyes beginning to fill with tears, not from pain but from sheer embarrassment.

After the fifth blow he sat the yardstick aside. “You may stand, Miss Sonnett. And perhaps this will help you remember to follow 1 Timothy 2:11: ‘Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection.’ Retake your seat.”

I did as he said, trying to silently sniff back the tears that were desperate to fall, not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

I passed the rest of the literature lesson in silence, staring ahead and trying to steel myself against any outward shows of emotion. It wasn’t until our next lesson, needlework, that my grip slipped. I accidentally jabbed my embroidery needle deep beneath my thumbnail, immediately staining my muslin with a bright red drop of blood. The frustration and pain all welled up inside of me and it was all I could do to swallow back my tears once more.

I raised my uninjured hand, getting the attention of the woman who had been introduced to me as Miss Cheney. “May I go to the restroom?” She nodded and I sat my now ruined embroidery to the side and hurried from the room.

Once my throbbing thumb was under the cool running water, I finally let the tears come, pressing my fingers to mouth to keep quiet. The shame and unfairness and shock washed over me, wave by wave, until I felt completely paralyzed. How could I have possibly messed up so thoroughly, within hours of arriving? This was supposed to be a new start for me, and instead it was just a mess.

There was a gentle knock on the door, and I quickly sniffed back the tears, turning off the water and attempting to wipe at my cheeks. It cracked open to reveal Samantha’s concerned face. “Oh you poor thing!” she whispered, letting herself fully into the room and shutting the door behind her. “Mr. Harrington is a brute! You made such wonderful points against him though.”

“At what cost?” I asked miserably. “My pride? My dignity?”

“Hush now.” She placed a long arm around my shoulders and produced a handkerchief from her dress. “It will all be okay.”

“Will it?” Part of me wanted to be ashamed at the desperation in my voice. “What if this is a sign?”

“It’s not,” she comforted. “Come, dry your eyes. We’ll get you a new piece of muslin to work, and you’ll feel better after dinner and a good night’s rest. I always do.”

I forced myself to return her bright smile, hoping against hope that she was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr @thetheatrelady


	4. Emily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Sorry for the delay. I hope regardless of where you are, you were able to spend yesterday with those you love.
> 
> Also keep wearing a mask, stay safe out there

_Awake, awake!_

_I lay in my bed and stare at painted pine._

_Sleep has deemed not to paint mine eyelids tonight._

_That shan’t stop my dreams-_

_No-_

_To dream is to be the most awake!_

_Where shall I go?_

_Might I walk among_

_The tangled wildflowers,_

_My hands brushing their whisper soft petals?_

_Or should I journey across the sea,_

_Stepping as if on glass,_

_Like an explorer seeking empyrean?_

_No, my beloved-_

_I shall journey with star beams as reins,_

_Soaring over the cobblestones in a carriage known as providence,_

_Pressing on till I come to thy door._

_I will dream of you, my beloved,_

_In mine arms, in my heart, in my bed._

_Until my lips can touch thine own,_

_I shall steal from this unhappy place_

_To dream upon thy beautiful face._

_ES, October 25, 1886_

It was the next day following lunch. Instead of proceeding directly to our next lessen we had some free time, the majority of girls choosing to gather in the parlor and sip tea, discussing the weather and such. The conversation left much to be desired, so I had taken a chair on the edge of the room, idly turning through a copy of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Suddenly, I became aware of someone standing in front of me. I looked up to find the sharp faced girl from the day before, the one had seemed to delight in my mortification. She was wearing a lilac dress today, the fabric clinging to her slender figure.

“Yes?” I asked, stomach sinking.

“Emily Sonnett… you know, I’ve heard tales of your sister, Emma. How lovely she is.”

I gave her a smile. “Yes, she is. She’s my best friend.”

“And newly engaged, if I remember correctly?”

I nodded, shutting the novel clutched in my lap. “Yes, to Henry Holcomb.”

“A wonderful match.”

“Indeed.” When she didn’t say anything further, I gave another nod, reopening the book. I thought we had said all we needed to say to each other, but I was wrong.

“Y’know, I had also heard tell that Emma had a sister, a twin at that. At first I thought people must be mistaken. After all, no one seemed to know much about this ‘other’ Sonnett twin.”

I resisted the urge to squirm. “Not mistaken, I’m afraid. Here I sit.”

“Yes… and you know, now that I think back on it, there were some tales of the other twin. Stories of a girl so hopeless and graceless that she’d practically been hidden away from polite society.” My cheeks flamed up, the ache in my stomach redoubling. I glanced around to find most of the girls in the room watching us, their eyes wide. “I thought of course that people must be exaggerating. Idle gossip and all. Yet here you are in front of me, and now I see that somehow even the most masterful of exploits have failed to do your ineptitude justice.”

My mouth dropped open as if to speak, but the words refused to come, buried beneath the lump that was growing in my throat. What had I possibly done to deserve such brazen malice from this girl I had met only a day earlier, a girl whose name I still didn’t know? I swallowed hard, unwilling to cry in front of her and let her know just how deeply her words had cut me.

But then, suddenly someone was standing next to my chair. “It’s curious, Miss Lavelle, that you should even be able to see our new companion with how high you’ve turned up your nose. One would think such a severe angle should impair your vision.”

I could do nothing but gawk as the girl, Miss Lavelle it would seem, narrowed her eyes at my newfound savior. “’Tis not having your nose in the air to be able to recognize when someone is completely out of their depth.”

The newcomer smiled and smoothed her hands over the emerald green silk of her skirts, angling her head. “Depths? Are we speaking in thalassic metaphors now, Rose?”

“You would do well to not needlessly throw around academic words, Kelley. It just shows how ill made you are for marriage. After all, what man wants a wife who speaks as if she has swallowed a thesaurus?”

Kelley gave a bright laugh. “That may be true, but I also suspect that most men won’t cheer at the thought of marrying a woman who permanently has her face twisted up as if she's been smeared with a dog's unpleasantness."

There was an audible gasp from those looking on, and Rose looked as if she would combust from anger. Samantha came flapping up just then. “Now then, no need for any of us to get in a state. It is, after all, another day presented to us as a gift, unpromised. We ought to all give thanks for this beautiful day, our individual opportunities, and of course, this time to sit and drink tea with our fellow students.”

Rose cut her eyes in Samantha’s direction. “Yes, you would be thinking of tea, Samantha.” She turned and retreated across the room with a sniff, cloistering herself among several girls who immediately bent their heads to discuss what had just happened with her.

Kelley looked down and gave me a small smile. “I wouldn’t put much stock in what Rosemary Lavelle thinks if I were you.” Then with a swift wink of her hazel eyes, she was leaving the room.

Samantha dropped into the chair beside me. “Gracious! If Headmistress Ellis were to hear them…” She gave her head a shake. “She would be disappointed.”

“Who was that?”

“Rosemary Lavelle, I think her family is from the Nashville area.”

“No, well I mean yes, but who was the other girl?” I gestured through the recently vacated doorway.

“Oh! That’s Kelley O’Hara, of course. Of the Atlanta O’Haras?” I shook my head, not knowing the family she referred to. “They’re an old family. If I remember correctly, she had an ancestor who fought for the revolution up in Virginia. But they have a plantation on the other side of Atlanta. Her father fought in the war.”

“Oh my.”

Samantha lowered her voice. “My father was, well, we’re Quaker, so he’s staunchly an abolitionist.”

“I see.” I sat my book completely aside, deciding that it wasn’t going to be read any time soon. “I have to admit, I’m rather confused.”

“About?”

“I don’t understand what I possibly could have done to earn Rosemary’s ire. I mean, I sat in her chair, but surely she can’t hold that against me, I didn’t know!”

She sighed heavily. “Rose is… delicate. She sees herself… well, does your family have any sort of animals?”

“A house cat that mainly cavorts about the kitchen.”

She tapped me on the forearm. “Ah! Okay. Picture Rose as a house cat. She’s very territorial. And she tends to make a great show of letting others know that she is in charge.”

“But how in the world did I make her think I was challenging her?” I wondered aloud.

She shrugged. “You didn’t. She just wanted to let you know immediately where you stood with her.” She leaned in closer. “From what I’ve heard, Rose’s older brother and sister are married off, as is her younger sister. She’s the last one and her family is growing more and more concerned each day that an engagement doesn’t happen.”

“I see. Well, I know how stressful that is. It’s no wonder she wants to bully anyone who could possibly be seen as competition.”

She gave me a sad smile. “It is a bit like a game, isn’t it?”

“A game with very few winners,” I couldn’t help but grumble. I pushed the anxious, dark thought from my mind. “I haven’t seen Kelley much.”

Samantha nodded understandingly. “Kelley is… well she’s lovely. Smart, and a lot of fun. But she does have that famed Irish temperament. One wrong word and she’s up in arms, angry. That being said, she used to be very close friends with a girl named Alexandra. She left several months back to be married and I think Kelley took it rather hard. She’s been more reserved. During free time she either sticks to her books or spends time with Tobin.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I’ve met her either.”

Samantha smiled. “She’s quiet. Not exactly the type to come up and introduce herself.”

A bell sounded and we stood from our chairs, following our classmates from the room. “Does that happen often?”

“Does what?”

“Girls leaving to get married.”

Samantha gave a little chuckle. “Oh yes. I would say that every month or so a girl receives a proposal and then packs up her things to leave. Most families don’t see the point in her continuing on here once a suitable match has been made.”

“And is that the only way girls leave?” She furrowed her brow, so I continued. “Does anyone ever complete the course without finding a match?”

She caught my hand, giving it a squeeze. “There’s no need to worry, Emily. You’ll find someone, I promise.” I squeezed back, hoping that she was right.

We parted ways, taking our seats for our French lesson. I craned around in my seat, and spotted Kelley sitting near the back. She was chatting happily with her seatmate, a languid looking girl whose brown hair seemed intent on escaping its braids. She poked the girl in the side, earning a chuckle and rolled eyes, then turned back to the front. She caught me staring and raised an eyebrow, smirking at me. My cheeks warmed, and I felt oddly embarrassed.

“Miss Sonnett?” I whipped around to find the teacher looking down at me. “Is everything okay?”

“Erm, yes, I’m sorry.” I struggled to compose myself, smoothing my hands across the top of my desk. The woman launched into a passionate lecture on the finer points of verb conjugation in the French language, and I tried to pay attention. However, I couldn’t shake the feeling of hazel eyes tracing over me from the back of the room. I felt strangely warm in a way that I couldn’t describe or shake.

Something deep within told me that in Kelley O’Hara I had just met someone who would drastically change my life.


	5. Kelley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday!!!

_My dearest Alex,_

_The birdsong here does not sound as sweet in your absence. It’s as if they also mourn your retreat from my arms_

_My only Alex,_

_I yearn to see your face, not just as a mortal misses a sweet friend in their absence, but as fallen swallows yearn to return to the sky_

_Dearest Alex,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. In your last, you spoke of your mother-in-law’s ailing health. I send my sincerest hopes for her speedy recovery._

_The nights here at Edenwood growing chilly. I suspect on of these mornings I shall wake up to find the world outside of my window coated with the barest of frosts. I hope that you continue to be warm and in good health, but my most urgent desire is that you are happy._

_Always yours,_

_Kelley_

I couldn’t say what had possessed me to intervene on the new arrival’s behalf, but I did know that it was foolish of me. Rosemary Lavelle could be perfectly amicable, as long as you didn’t do anything to antagonize her. But it was common knowledge that when provoked she was unafraid to bare her claws.

Normally, this wouldn’t have concerned me in the least. My Aunt Eileen had maintained that I came into this plane red and screaming, fists balled up as if I was already looking for a fight. Even as a very young thing, I was unafraid to throw myself into the mix with my younger brother and all of my cousins, much to my mother’s chagrin. Countless lace trimmed dresses, passed down in pristine condition from my older sister Erin, were lost to mud stains and the occasional bloody nose. My father had joked several times that had I been born a boy, I surely would have been the best soldier since Andrew Jackson.

But I was under the strictest of orders that fighting of any kind would not be tolerated here. I had already been asked to discontinue my pupilage at a day school in Atlanta for squabbling with other girls, and my mother had made it very clear that if it happened again there would be hell to pay.

But when I saw her standing so smugly above the new girl, I just couldn’t help myself. Maybe it was the haughty look on her face, the way her hands were held so primly as if she were made of spun sugar. Perhaps though, it was the fact that the new girl, Emily, seemed completely unable to defend herself. She had just sat there, her blue eyes growing larger, her cheeks reddening, taking Rose’s abuse as if she had somehow earned it. Where was the fire and gusto that had possessed her to challenge Mr. Harrington on your very first day? Why was she able to argue so passionately in defense of Jane Eyre but unable to speak up on her own behalf?

I might have been born into this world to fight, but there was quite a difference between fighting to win and fighting to destroy, and without provocation at that.

That Saturday I received a letter from Erin. She had been married nearly a year ago, and she wrote to me often, detailing the day to day monotonies of her new life as a doting wife and mother to be. She had recently reached the quickening, and was estimated to be about halfway through with her pregnancy.

Erin seemed… happy. She had nothing but glowing words for her husband, and seemed to find true joy in ordering her household staff about as our mother had done our whole lives. There was nothing in her letters that seemed to yearn for anything more, and yet they filled me with a peculiar, ice cold anxiety.

With each passing day, as they built into weeks and months, I could feel my own parallel future looming closer. I felt it, not quite as the moon in the sky, but more as a scythe, suspended, waiting to strike when least expected.

I knew I could be a good wife. I knew that men found me to be attractive, so long as I secured a firm grip on my tongue, keeping both my temper and intellect in check. I knew that eventually a reputable match would be made, and that would be it. I would be married, no longer an O’Hara, but the bride of someone of who would never truly know me or understand me.

 _But then again, just because someone knows you doesn’t mean they won’t hurt you._ I pushed the thought aside.

The day was our own, and most girls were quietly reading or working on needlework. I knew that Tobin would more than likely be out on the grounds, working diligently in her sketchbook, and I decided that being ignored by my closest friend underneath the cold Georgia sun would be much preferable to rereading one my books next to the stuffy fire.

I pulled a wrap around my shoulders and set off down the path, the gravel crunching beneath my leather soles. I checked a few of Tobin’s normal haunts with little luck. I had almost decided to give up and retire to my room to write Erin back, when I caught sight of someone sitting near the oft forgotten pond. I took a few steps closer and realized that while I still hadn’t found Tobin, I had just stumbled upon Emily Sonnett.

She didn’t look up as I walked nearer, absorbed in the notebook on her lap, her face just inches from the paper.

“Don’t tell me you’re out here hiding from Rose Lavelle.” She jumped, nearly tumbling from her perch on a large rock. She clutched the leather bound book to her chest, her cheeks once again reddening as she turned to face me.

“You scared me.”

“So I see. Now, are you hiding?”

She sat up a little straighter. “No.”

“Are you sure? Because if you’re not wanting to be found, I can go back inside, pretend that I didn’t see you.”

“No,” she repeated quickly. “You can stay. That is, if you want to.”

I gave a little hum as I lifted my skirts a bit, stepping around the edge of the water to sit near her. “If you insist.” Once I was settled, I turned to face her. “You continue to be a bit of an enigma.”

“I do?” Her brow furrowed.

I nodded. “I find myself quite intrigued by you.”

She gave a very soft smile, almost embarrassed. “Oh no. There’s nothing… intriguing about me in the least. I am but a blade of grass in a field of many.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.” I squinted up at the sky. “Why did you let Rose speak to you in such a manner?”

She shook her head slightly. “She… well she wasn’t quite wrong unfortunately. My sister is… well she continues to outpace me in most measurable qualities.”

“Surely not in eloquence?”

She blinked at me. “Erm… she does tend to speak more plainly. Which I find most people tend to prefer.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong, Emily. That’s what simple people tend to prefer. That way they don’t have to recognize that your wit far outpaces their own.”

She gave a slight laugh. “I’m sure my wit is quite a small thing.”

“You needn’t be humble for my benefit,” I assured her. “I heard the way you spoke during the literature lesson. You are nothing if not a fount of intellect.”

She blushed again, a pretty thing. “Thank you.”

“So what are you doing out here if you’re not hiding?”

She returned her gaze to the book in her lap. “I… was just writing down some thoughts.”

“Oh, in a diary? I apologize, I didn’t mean to intrude.” I made to stand up but she held out her hand.

“No! Not a diary, not really. It’s just… poetry.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Poetry?”

She nodded slightly. “One of my favorite past times.”

“I see.” I moved a little closer. “Might you read me some?”

“Some of mine?” she clarified, a clear note of panic infecting her voice.

I nodded. “Please.”

“Oh no, it’s not something to share. They are but dabbles, ways to straighten out my sometimes murky mind.”

I shook my head. “I doubt your mind has ever been anything approaching murky. Please, I promise that I won’t judge too harshly.”

She gave me a hesitant look. “Do you swear?”

I smothered a smile. “I give you my most solemn oath.”

She slowly flipped through the pages, searching, then took a deep breath.

“The candle’s sweet flicker bids hurry, hurry!

It tells me that I if I err even one moment,

I could miss that unparalleled delight

Of your presence.

I shall dream of you, my darling, till daybreak,

O rotten thing!

Can’t the sun rest, can’t he wait,

Giving me but a few more precious moments with you?

Call me blasphemous, but I shall stall the celestial wanderings,

Shall bid them all adieu!

I shall cast them into darkness,

If only so that the North star,

Your beauteous face,

Might shine more clearly.” She slowly raised her eyes from the page to look at me.

“Beautiful,” I replied simply.

Her face broke out in a wide smile. “Thank you.”

“I’m Kelley, by the way.” I gave her my hand.

“I know. Samantha told me.”

I smiled wider. “Oh Samantha,” I said good naturedly. “What a creature that girl is. Tall, happy, but ever so anxious to please.”

“Yes,” she agreed with a laugh. “She’s shaping up to be wonderful roommate.”

An idea clicked into place, and I drummed my fingers on my knee, determining the details before speaking them out loud. “Tell me… does she happen to be a sound sleeper?”

“Samantha? Uh, yes. As far as I can tell. Sometimes I stay up to read and she doesn’t seem to have any problems drifting off.”

I got to my feet, brushing my hands along the back of my skirt to rid myself of any dirt. “It’s settled then. I’ll come by your room as the clock strikes eleven. Make sure you’re dressed and that you have a wrap.”

She looked at me in confusion. “What? Why?”

I gave her a smile. “Don’t worry. Just consider it to be your official welcome to Edenwood.” I started back towards the school, and heard her get to her feet behind me.

“But… what will we be doing?”

I turned and gave her a smile. “Don’t worry, Emily. You’ll be safe with me.”

* * *

True to my word, just as the large grandfather clock began to ring out the eleventh hour, I eased Emily and Samantha’s door open, just able to make out her anxious form sitting on the side of the bed. I beckoned her forward and she stood up, creeping over with one last glance at where her roommate was snoring in the far bed.

When we got to the hallway, she opened her mouth as if to ask a question and I gave my head a quick shake, laying my finger against my lips. She nodded in understanding and followed me down the stairs and out the kitchen door. Waiting for us was a small group of our classmates: Tobin, of course, as well as Alyssa, Rebecca, and Alexandra.

We hurried down the long drive, getting as far away from any potentially prying eyes as quickly as possible. Once we reached the main road, Rebecca lifted her hand, and we all lapsed into excited, nervous giggles save for Emily who was still glancing back over her shoulder as if at any moment Headmistress Ellis might come flying after us, ready to write home to our parents.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” I assured her, quickly reaching out and giving her arm a squeeze.

We continued down the main road for several minutes, all of us talking and laughing, picking our way carefully among the holes, not to mention the piles of manure from the horse drawn carts that had passed through during the day. Just as it seemed as though Emily was going to insist one something- either more information or turning back- one of the said carts came along.

The driver pulled on the reigns, bringing his horses to a halt. He pushed his cap backwards. “Well, looky here,” he called in a broad, accented voice.

“Good evening, Victor,” Alexandra said warmly.

“If it isn’t my favorite group of ladies, out for a gad!”

“Might you give us a ride further into town?” Rebecca asked.

He climbed down and walked to the back, extending his hand. “What kind of fella would I be to say no?” He helped us one by one clamber into the back of the cart.

“Thank you, Victor,” Rebecca called.

He waved his hand, clambering back onto his seat and giving the reins a quick snap. The horses started abruptly forward, and Emily careened into me.

“Do you know him?” she whispered under her breath.

“Victor travels this road every night, passing the school at 11:30 almost on the dot. That’s why we had to prudent about what time we left.”

She nodded, looking like she wanted to say something more, but didn’t. I couldn’t help but smile, butting my shoulder against hers. “Come, don’t you trust me?”

She glanced at me, then up at the star rich sky overhead. “Of course,” she murmured with surprising conviction.

“Then set aside your worries. I promise this is one night you shall never forget.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do we think about our first chapter from Kelley's POV??
> 
> Also, I have some pretty exciting things happening on my tumble, @thetheatrelady, go check it out!!!


	6. Emily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Just a quick author's note that this chapter deals lightly with race (AKA we finally get to meet everyone's true love, Christen Press) as well as some period typical views regarding cross dressing/gender non conformity.
> 
> I'm doing my very best to handle each of these things with the utmost care, but as a cigender white person, there may be times that I fail. Please don't hesitate to reach out if you have comments or concerns about this.

_Cheer that mounrful wind_

_that rushes down the shore._

_Does he not know?_

_Venus has graced our banks,_

_She cries-_

_Come! O sailor._

_I linger, for I yearn for your company._

_Fair maiden,_

_O goddess divine,_

_I come, I come, I come_

_to adulate at your feet._

_ES, October 30, 1886_

If I had even the faintest idea of where we were going, I was quickly proven wrong. When the cart came to a stop and the man, Victor, helped as all down, I could do nothing but stare at the grim buildings around us, jutting towards the sky like unkind cliffs. He drove off with another cheery wave, leaving us quite alone.

“Where-”

One of the girls I didn’t know as well, Alexandra I think, put her hand on my arm. “You’ll see,” she murmured. Kelley stepped forward, seeming to be counting something. Apparently finding what she was wanting, she darted forward and knocked on a plain wooden door. After a long moment, an opening slid open in the middle.

“Who goes there?”

“Sally,” she responded confidently. The gap slid shut with a resounding thwack, and I thought for sure that was the end of our excursion. But then the door swung inward, bidding us come into the warmth.

I found myself standing in a large, low ceilinged room that was teeming with people. The haze of tobacco smoke was thick, almost so that I feared I would begin to cough and choke. Lanterns were lit along the perimeter of the room, throwing murky light onto the inhabitants of the tables.

They seemed to be common folk, sailors and laborers, all of them talking loudly and laughing as they drank from large tankards of beer. There were women with them too, not sitting primly with polite smiles, but rather engaging in the rowdy conversations with loud, spirited voices.

A few people looked at us uncertainly, but most ignored us soundly. I could do nothing but be pulled along behind everyone else as they laid claim to a table. I wanted to look at everything, worried that I was merely dreaming and wanting to remember every single thing.

I was pushed to sit on a rough wooden bench, and I finally turned to look at the other girls. They were already immersed in conversation, even as Kelley and Tobin walked towards the counter along the opposite wall. Rebecca gave me a smile.

“Relax Emily. Enjoy the music.”

Somehow in my stunned amazement, I had completely missed the band playing at the far end of the room, tucked under the eave of a staircase. The people around them were tapping their hands and feet in the rhythm, and a few people were even dancing. I closed my eyes and let myself concentrate on the song.

_“Farewell and adieu to you, Spanish Ladies_

_Farewell and adieu to you, ladies of Spain;_

_For we've received orders for to sail for old England_

_But we hope in a short time to see you again…”_

A thump on the table startled me, and I opened my eyes to find a tray of tankards in front of me. The other girls were eagerly taking the drinks, so I did the same. I brought it to my nose, sniffing. I’d never had alcohol before, my father disapproving of the entire business. But, egged on by my classmates, I took a hesitant sip.

The taste soured on my tongue and I immediately screwed my face up in a grimace, earning loud laughs. “That’s terrible!” I cried.

“That just means you have to drink it fast so that you don’t taste it as much,” Rebecca advised me, gesturing for me to lift it back to my lips, which I did. I choked down as much as I could, listening to them begin to talk about goings on about the school. I only half listened, my eyes still roving the salon, watching our fellow patrons.

A fellow came up to the table and for a moment I froze, waiting for one of the older girls to turn him away, but then he pulled up a chair and I was struck in the face with the realization that it wasn’t a fellow at all.

It was Tobin.

But it wasn’t the Tobin that had made the journey with us from Edenwood.

Gone was her high necked, dark gown. Instead she was clad in trousers and a man’s work shirt, a tie fastened about her neck. Her brown hair was twisted up into a cap. I glanced beneath the table to see that her pointed, heeled shoes had been replaced with heavy leather boots.

I felt tongue tied; what exactly did this mean? Surely she knew the penalty for dressing as a man was jail. It fell under public indecency laws, and if anyone were to see her she would surely be arrested.

But then I looked more closely at her face, and I saw that it was graced with a wide smile that I hadn’t seen before. She looked happy, her entire body more open and relaxed. I glanced around at our fellow classmates and saw that no one else had batted an eye at her transformation. In a bit of a daze, I lifted the tankard back to my lips, forgetting the horrible taste of the contents within. Still, I swallowed more down, drinking until it was all gone.

Kelley gave a most unladylike whoop as I slammed the tankard back onto the table with a slight cough. She slung her arm around my shoulders, and all of a sudden the room felt warm, almost uncomfortably so.

Alyssa got up, perhaps to get us more beer, and Alexandra leaned across the table. “So what do you think, Emily? Is it worth the risk?”

“Where- what is this place?”

They all laughed. “We’re in a sailor’s saloon,” Rebecca explained.

“I thought women weren’t allowed in saloons,” I said absently.

“Strictly speaking, we’re not,” she replied easily. “Making this a very scandalous operation.”

Kelley tightened her hold on my shoulders. “What she’s really saying is that if you see a policeman- run.”

“A policeman?” A shiver of fear ran through my body, and I couldn’t resist the urge to turn and glance about us at the other patrons.

Tobin gave another wide smile. “Don’t let them worry you, Emily- everything will be fine.”

Alyssa arrived with another platter of drinks and I allowed another to be pressed into my hands. Rebecca had been right- the second went down much smoother, even if I still wasn’t a fan of the taste. I was able to relax the harsh set of my shoulders and actually listen to the conversation happening around me. Through all of this, Kelley’s arm remained around my shoulders, a fact I was highly cognizant of. In fact, when she pulled it away to drain her own tankard, I felt the loss much more deeply than I would have initially anticipated.

She stood up from the table. “Come, I love this song.”

“How do you-” But I stood with the others, letting myself be swept up along with them onto the makeshift dance floor.

This was nothing like the stuffy, regimented dancing that happened at Emma’s engagement party. For one, we were dancing with each other, and this somehow gave us permission to be looser with our movements, lapsing into giggles as we twirled each other about to the raucous tune, the singer’s heavily accented voice speeding up until we were nearly frantic in our attempts to keep up.

_Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog_

_The bog down in the valley o_

_Real bog, the rattlin' bog_

_The bog down in the valley o_

_Well in the bog there was a hole_

_A rare hole and a rattlin' hole_

_Hole in the bog_

_And the bog down in the valley o_

By the time the song ended in a flourish, we were barely able to stand, practically doubled over in our laughter. My cheeks felt hot, my entire body shivery and giddy. We collapsed back at our table. Another tray of drinks was slid in front of us and I looked up to see a beautiful woman with bright green eyes.

“Thank you,” I gasped, still trying to catch my breath.

“Of course,” she said warmly.

She didn’t walk away, and suddenly I realized we had no spare seats. “Uh, would you like to… we could grab a chair-”

But to my surprise, Tobin reached out for the girl, pulling her to sit upon her lap. Again, I glanced around, worried that someone would see and it would prove to be our undoing. However… no one seemed to care what we were doing. In fact, when I looked a bit closer, I noticed that our table was not the only one where people were sharing seats. Women sat upon men’s laps in a most improper way that would surely make either of my parents blush, but I also saw men with men, and women with women. Indeed as I looked back at Tobin, I watched her press a kiss to the cheek of the girl on her lap.

Kelley noticed me looking, my mouth ajar, and nudged me with her shoulder. “This is Christen. Christen, this is Emily, since Tobin seems incapable of performing the perfunctory introductions.”

Tobin just waved a hand, but the girl, Christen gave me a beautiful smile. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You as well.”

“You’re new to Edenwood, then?”

I nodded. “Just this week.”

Christen turned slightly to give Tobin a soft smile. “You prove yourselves to be quick influences, if ultimately poor ones.”

“Nonsense,” Kelley nearly yelled. “We’re expanding her world view.”

Christen stood, ignoring the pouting look upon Tobin’s face. “Well, when you’re here, you’re family. If you need anything let me know, Emily.”

“Thank you.” I watched as she walked away then turned back to my classmates. “She’s quite beautiful.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“And she’s our age?”

Tobin nodded. “She’s nineteen.”

“I see. Why doesn’t she attend Edenwood?” It suddenly seemed as if they were all staring hard at me. If my cheeks hadn’t already been red with drink, I probably would have flushed visibly. “I mean, I know that perhaps Edenwood isn’t within everyone’s means, financially. Not that I presume to know her financial situation!” I felt as if every syllable was digging me deeper rather than helping me climb out.

Rebecca was finally the one to speak up. “Well, she wouldn’t be permitted to gain admittance, financials notwithstanding.”

“Why not?”

Alexandra brushed back the dark hair that fallen out of her updo. “Because of her race, Emily.”

I stared back and forth between all of them, surely looking the picture of confusion. “Because she’s… Spanish?”

Kelley placed a hand on my shoulder, pressing perhaps more heavily than was needed. “Emily. Christen is black.”

“Oh… Oh!” Now I was certainly blushing. “I didn’t… Her eyes… and her skin-” I broke off, biting my lip to stop myself from saying anything else.

“Christen is quite light skinned, you’re correct,” Becky said, taking pity on me.

I turned to Tobin, eyes wide. I could tell that the two were quite intimate, and I didn’t want to alienate myself from someone I had just begun to consider a friend. “She’s beautiful. And so well spoken. Not that… that she shouldn’t be-” I broke off again.

Tobin hadn’t said anything yet, instead just watching me flounder for the right words.

“How did you meet?” I finally asked.

“Christen works here, as a bar maid. She served us the first couple of times that we came,” Rebecca answered.

“She’s very pleasant,” I offered.

“She’s probably the smartest person in this entire room,” said Kelley.

“It’s a shame that through virtue of being a woman and being black, she never received the education she deserves,” Alyssa murmured.

“And yet, liberty and justice for all,” Alexandra finished darkly. We all paused, staring into our respective tankards as we each pondered how those words didn’t seem to always ring true.

“Christen is… wonderful,” Tobin said, finally speaking up. “She’s my best and closest friend.” She met my gaze, and in her eyes I saw nothing but passionate adoration. I reached out and pressed a finger into the tender skin on the inside of her wrist.

“And rightfully so.” I tried to convey with my eyes that I understood, that she would receive no grief from me. “I hope that I have the chance to get to know Christen better.”

She smiled. “You should ask her for her thoughts on Jane Eyre. You might be the only person who can keep up with her.”

I started to laugh, to say that I looked forward to it, but at that precise moment the door at the far end of the room flew open to reveal the police.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I can be found on tumblr @thetheatrelady


	7. Tobin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Sorry for the delay. The holidays came out of nowhere, and I've also been dealing with some family difficulties. Now that I'm back in the city, we're packing up to move apartments, but I'm going to do my best to keep writing and posting!
> 
> This chapter has a very exciting art contribution from Heath17_ko5!!!

_T.P Heath, October 30, 1886_

Suddenly, the front door was flying open. Policemen began to pour inside, sending the room into chaos. They began to grab at those nearest the door, and Kelley seized me by the hand, steering me and the other girls out the back door. I peered wildly around, catching just one glimpse of Christen’s dark curls before she was pushed below the bar, through a trap door that I knew was there for emergencies such as these.

I wanted to stay, to protect her, to shield her from any harm, but I could not. The trousers that I so proudly slid on, the loose fitting shirt and tie that had felt so right, so comfortable, they now seemed to cling to me like a hangman’s noose, screaming my sins.

A woman in men’s clothing. A very wicked thing indeed.

We dashed down the street, everyone dizzy and lightheaded from the liquor in our veins. Their heels caught in the uneven streets of the back streets as we ran, and everyone clung to each other. The others couldn’t help but squeal as they went, playfully shushing each other now that the immediate threat of danger was out of sight and therefore, falling from mind.

But suddenly my stomach was aching, threatening to send its contents spewing across the slick, dirty stones.

I didn’t want to return to Edenwood.

I couldn’t.

Not yet.

I stumbled to a stop and the new girl, Emily, turned to look at me questioningly. I couldn’t answer, only shake my head, my lips pressed together. Kelley grabbed her hand and urged her onward, until they disappeared around the corner. I took a breath and darted down a side alleyway, my feet finding easy footing in their sturdy leather shoes. I took the twists and turns as they came, letting myself get lost in the darkened landscape of the city.

A whinny rang out through the night, bringing me to a sudden stop. I turned on the spot, my eyes falling on the cracked door of a stable. I staggered forward, slipping inside and pulling the door closed behind me.

The air inside was warm and muggy, a mix of the sweetness of hay and horse’s breath along with sourness of a mess to be mucked out at the break of day. I took gentle steps forward, not wanting to scare the stable’s occupants.

He looked at me straight on, his warm brown eyes seeming to truly see me. I stretched out a hand, letting him take a sniff before laying it against his muzzle. My fingers stroked along the velvet soft skin.

“It’s alright,” I whispered. “It’s alright.”

He looked back at me, as if asking which one of us I was trying to convince.

“You’re lucky,” I whispered, whether to myself or to him I couldn’t say. “You know who you are. Or, what you are, rather. You just live your days, never having to worry…” Said worry bubbled up in my stomach, and I hunched over, worried I would be sick. I forced myself to take deep breaths, trying to expand my lungs against their best efforts.

I had been this way as long as I could remember. My sisters had bloomed like flowers as I watched, uncomfortable, withering on my vine. The older I grew, the worse it became, my own body betraying me as it grew into a woman’s body that must be confined with a corset and untold amounts of petticoats. I couldn’t help but eye my brother with envy, his shirts and trousers doing nothing to choke him, his shoes made for walking rather than tiptoeing.

I did not think that I truly wanted to be a man. Or perhaps I did? All I knew for sure was that I longed for freedom, a liberty denied to me by both my gender and my station.

I forced myself to stand upright and wiped at my damp cheeks. I needed to make a decision; as much as I wanted to stay in this stable forever, content among it’s occupants, eventually daybreak would come and with it, the owner of this property. I needed to not be here, I needed to be back in my bed at Edenwood, but the very thought threatened to incapacitate me.

I took a deep breath and made a decision, giving my equine friend one last pat before slipping through the wooden doors.

By the time I had walked from the stable to Christen’s part of town, my body was beginning to ache. I wearily climbed the stairs, ever aware that I was not supposed to be there. I reached the door and quietly rapped out the melody she would recognize as my own. After several moments, the door creaked open and Christen’s beautiful face peeked out.

“Tobin, I thought you’d gone back,” she breathed.

“I...”

“This is dangerous,” she continued.

“I know.” I dropped my head slightly. “I just... I can’t go back yet. I need to be here, I need... to breathe.”

She stepped back, letting me slip inside. Once the door was latched tightly, she turned, taking me in her arms.

I leaned my head into her shoulder, feeling her rub my back, my arms, my neck. “I’m right here, my love. My sweetness.”

I pulled back and gave her a smile then softly kissed her.

Someone clearing their throat broke us apart. I turned to see Christen’s older sister standing in the doorway to their single bedroom. Her hair, the same dark curls as my love, was falling loose about her shoulders, and she had her arms folded tightly over her nightdress.

“Tyler...” Christen murmured pleadingly.

“She shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous. You know that. You both should know that.” It was only with her last statement that she glanced at me, her green eyes sharp and accusing.

I couldn’t blame her. If I were to be caught here... I would be ostracized. I would lose my societal standing. I would be jailed for wearing men’s clothes and my parents would perhaps never recover from the scandal.

Christen could be arrested, even beaten or killed.

I felt the all too familiar guilt hit my chest, reminding me yet again of what this wonderful girl was risking for me. I couldn’t help but ask myself if it was worth it, if I myself was worth it, but I knew if I were to voice as much, she would insist that I was.

“Go back to bed,” Christen whispered.

“Are you coming?”

Christen took my hand, squeezing. “I’ll join you later.”

Tyler seemed to stop herself from replying, instead just letting out an irritated sigh as she went back into the apartment’s only bedroom. Christen led me further into the small sitting room, adding a log to where the fire had dwindled down to embers. We lay down in front of it, her arms encircling my waist, her head seeming to fit perfectly into the bend of my neck. I pressed a kiss to her forehead and she gave a contented sigh.

“I’m so glad you made it out okay.”

I nodded slightly. “And I, you.”

She chuckled, one of her hands coming up to stroke at my jaw. “By the time the policemen had stopped swinging their batons, I was long disappeared down the tunnel.”

“Still.” The fear and anxiety of it all still pressed heavily on my chest.

She propped herself up on one elbow so that she could look into my face. “What is it, my love?”

My throat constricted, and I had swallow hard at the sudden rush of emotion. “Nothing,” I lied. She raised an eyebrow and I forced a small smile. “I just love you more than I will ever be able to express.”

How could I possibly explain to this woman, this beautiful woman, that she was both the very reason I held faith in the Lord above, and my cause to cry out against him? For after all, how could a supposedly loving God be so careless with her?

I knew all about her life, having gleaned the details piece by piece. Her parents had been enslaved on a plantation in rural Georgia, her mother working in the big house as her father toiled in the fields. They had been freed after the war, but had quickly found themselves in a society that was not much better. They’d moved to Atlanta in search of bounty, a better life for themselves.

They’d found what work they could and had found a home, and for a time, life had been good. Christen had been surrounded by several brothers and sisters, and their home, while cramped, was full of love.

And then, yellow fever had made its home in Georgia. Christen had watched as one by one, her father, her mother, her brothers and sisters, all fell ill. She had sobbed into my shoulder as she recounted the horrors of watching them die, the memories seeming fresh even though ten years had passed. In the end, only nine year old Christen and sixteen year old Tyler remained.

Tyler had begun to take in pieces of sewing and mending to support them, and they moved into the apartment they now lived in. It had been a hard life, with Christen taking a job at just fourteen to help out, but Christen said they both felt lucky just to be alive.

_Some life,_ I couldn’t help but think sourly. How could anyone look upon Christen, how could anyone hear her speak, and not be struck with the absolute certainty that she deserved the world? She was the most intelligent person I had ever known, man or woman, black or white, and yet she was forced to work in a sailor’s saloon for crumbs.

She stroked her thumb along my eyebrow. “You are in a brooding mood tonight.”

I turned my head, pressing a whisper light kiss to the inside of her wrist. “What if we were to go away?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Tobin…”

“Far away. We could go to the territories, or Texas, maybe even California.”

“Tobin.”

“Somewhere that we can breathe. That we can be free.”

“You know that we can not.”

“But why? You, you can pass, women darker than you do-”

“Tobin.” Her voice was a bit sharper this time. “What of your family? What of mine?”

“Tyler could marry.”

Christen sighed. “And your parents? Your sisters?”

“I… I…”

“My love, you know we cannot. Where is all of this fanciful talk coming from?”

I let out a slow, sad breath. She was right. Of course, she was right. We could not live life as birds in the sky, untethered and uncaring of how our actions affected others. We had duties to fulfill, no matter how much they chafed. “I am but overcome with the love and admiration I hold for you,” I finally answered.

She tilted my face upwards, pulling me in for a kiss. “Then let us stew in our love, Tobin, instead of our vexations.” She gave me another kiss. “Just love me.”

“I do,” I murmured against her lips, my hand coming to rest on her hip. I rolled on top of her, my hand finding its place between her legs. As I worked the first beauteous cries from her lips, I stared deep into her eyes. I watched as her she caught her bottom lip between her teeth in an effort to quiet herself. I held her close, letting myself sink into the simple, beautiful knowledge that for some reason she loved me. For some reason, she had chosen me. And that could be enough for me. That would have to be enough.

Once her body tensed and shook, she returned the favor, her long, thin fingers stealing into my trousers and taking me apart before putting me back together again.

Afterwards, we lay on the rug, staring into each other’s eyes in the dying light of the fire. She caressed my cheek. “’Tis late.”

I failed to quiet my groan. “Not that late.”

“Tobin.” I reluctantly raised my eyes to look at her. “’Tis late. You must hurry home if you are not to be caught.”

“I just… I love you, Christen. I know I repeat it, time and time again, but-”

“And I love you. Which is why you must go.” She gave me a small smile. “It will be but one short week before we see each other again.”

“Worlds are built in but one week,” I grumbled.

She laughed lightly, giving me one last kiss before rolling away. “We shall survive this separation, as we have survived all others.”

I nodded. “You’re right.” I got to my feet, adjusting my clothes to begin the long journey back to Edenwood. As it was, I would only get a few hours sleep before the bells awoke us for church. Christen was right, I must hurry.

She walked me to the door and gave me one last kiss before pulling it open. I squeezed her hand, trying to convey my devotion, then stole away into the night.


	8. Emily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!!
> 
> Happy Inauguration Day! May this day bring you hope, as well as a reminder that we have to keep working and pushing forward. We're not done.

The fact that we made it back to Edenwood seemed nothing short of a miracle. One moment we were sitting in the sailor’s tavern, talking and laughing, and the next we were dashing out. When Tobin stopped running, falling behind our pack, I tried to sop and ask what was wrong, but Kelley urged me on, and eventually we turned a corner and she was out of sight.

When we arrived back at the school, we stole silently back inside. Without a word, the group splintered apart, everyone heading for their own rooms. But when I arrived at my own, I paused. Adrenaline was still coursing through my body, and I didn’t see how I could possibly be expected to fall asleep.

The ghost of a hand upon my back made me whip around, finding myself face to face with Kelley. She placed her finger against her lips and took my hand, leading me down the corridor and up a set of stairs I hadn’t used before.

The wind atop the roof of Edenwood was much cooler than it had been on journey home from the saloon. I couldn’t help but shiver, hiding my hands in the folds of my skirt.

“Cold?” I turned to see Kelley leaning against the bricks ensconcing the entrance back down into the bowels of the school, her lips upturned in a mischievous smile.

“I’m not sure we’re supposed to be up here,” I deflected.

“We also weren’t supposed to leave school grounds without an escort. We weren’t supposed to be drinking. Which....” she dipped her hand into her pocket, pulling out a glass bottle, it’s amber contents sloshing at the sides. She held it out to me. “This will help with the cold.”

“I’m not cold,” I lied resolutely as I took the bottle.

She laughed and took a few steps forward, leaving the shelter the wall had been providing her. “Your shaking says otherwise,” she teased softly, rubbing her hands on the exposed flesh of my arms.

The contact made me shiver more, but I could no longer feel the wind on my skin. I took a sip from her bottle, aching for a distraction from the way her hazel eyes were shining to challenge the stars in the sky. The liquid burned my throat and made me cough. She tapped me lightly on the back as I spluttered for air.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” I sucked in a mouthful of air and wiped at her watering eyes. “It’s just... strong.”

“I take it you had never really drank before tonight then?”

“Erm... no. My family is Baptist.”

“Ah.”

“And my father’s a doctor, so... just never had the opportunity.”

“Well, we can fix that.” She gave me another impish smile. “After all, we’re sent to school for experience, right? Who says that your learning should be confined to needlework and scripture?”

“I...”

“What? You don’t think your parents would quite approve of us, dancing about the saloon like leaves falling from the tree?” A gust of wind blew a lock of hair into my eyes and she tucked it back behind my ear.

“N-no,” I stuttered out with a laugh.

“Do they approve of your poetry then?”

“Hm?” My cheeks warmed and I averted my eyes.

“Your poetry. Do they know about the way you play wordsmith?”

“No. They don’t.”

She tilted her head to one side, her eyes looking me over. “Well let’s hear it. Let’s hear some more of your pretty words.”

I took a small step backwards. “No. I, I couldn’t. Shouldn’t, really.”

“Please?” I raised my eyes and she gave me an encouraging smile. “It’s just me.”

I took a deep breath, lifting my face to stare up into the night sky. I willed the words to come to me, and begged them not to make a fool of me.

“You tell me I am the Sun,

And smile, pleased.

I share the Sun’s visage,

But -Oh!- also her heartache.

She shines on the Earth,

Beseeching the flowers to arise!

And lo— see how they whither.

The farmer grieves in his field,

He shakes his fist;

Did he not ask for her very maiden presence?

She smiles and offers her hand,

And yet he mutters darkly

Of ‘heat and of ‘drought.’

The only one who sees her efforts

Is that beauteous Moon,

\--Pale, haunting, lovely.

She shines back through the sky:

‘We are the same.’

And yet remains,

Just out of the Sun’s embrace.

And so,

She shines.

Hoping for even a glimpse

Of her true love’s face.”

I blinked, then looked back down at Kelley. Her face had an intense look, as if she was devouring me with just her eyes.

“So, the moon is your true love?”

“No, the moon is the sun’s true love, weren’t you listening?” I teased.

“Your words are lovely.”

I blushed. “They are nothing but ordinary.”

“You are anything but.” She moved ever so slightly closer. “Do you know what I find interesting about your poem, Emily?”

I swallowed. “What?”

“It’s that you compare yourself to the female sun, a fair comparison in my esteem. But then her love, the moon… also a woman.”

“Oh?” The alcohol was making me just a touch slower than normal. “Oh!” Her meaning made my stomach sink. “I didn’t…”

“Why not have a man in the moon?” she asked.

“I don’t- I didn’t-” I sucked in a deep breath, suddenly not cold at all but hot all over. “I wasn’t… thinking,” I tried to explain. “The moon can be a man, or the sun can be. I would of course edit if I were writing this down. It’s just a quick lark-”

“I think you’re lying.”

“Lying?” My voice came out as little more than a squeak.

She nodded slowly, her eyes searching mine. “I think you spoke of the moon as a woman, because you were speaking of something, or someone, that you love. And your tongue provided the correct pronouns, even as your brain was consumed in creation.” She leaned in further. “Is that true?”

I was quaking now, my most secret self, my very most soul lamenting my fate. “It’s not,” I breathed. “It was a mistake! I, I must go. I am weary, I must retire to-”

But I never was able to finish my sentence, because at that moment Kelley did the unthinkable and pressed her lips to mine.

I was no longer cold, no longer hot. I wasn’t tired or hungry or thirsty or sore from walking. I couldn’t have said for sure that I even continued to exist in a corporeal form. I no longer knew anything but her soft lips, moving so tenderly against mine.

She slowly pulled back and my eyes fluttered open to look at her. Her face had softened, showing a tenderness that I only could have guessed at prior to this night. “Why did you do that?” I asked, my voice a hoarse whisper.

“Because I too understand the sun’s plight,” she replied softly.

Her words slowly sank into my brain, and I took in a deep breath, sure that I was misunderstanding her. “Kelley…”

“You said the sun is shining for the moon… Have you ever considered that maybe the moon is shining back with just as much intensity?”

And for one moment, I forgot myself. I forgot where we were, I forgot that I had been dispatched here for the sole purpose of finding a husband. I forgot about the saloon, about the police, about how Tobin had all but faded into the murky shadows of the alleyways. I forgot about Emma and Henry, I forgot about Mama, I forgot about Father. I think I forgot even my own name. I forgot every single fact that tethered me to this earth, to my station. It all fell away at once, and I leaned forward and recaptured Kelley’s lips.

My hands came up, first grasping at her elbows before sliding to encircle her, pulling her nearer. One of her hands found it’s way to the back of my neck, her fingers playing with the baby hairs that the wind had helped escape my braids and curls. Her blunt nails pressed gently into the tender skin at my hairline, and I could do nothing to silence the sigh it pulled from my lips.

Her lips moved against mine, and I did my best to follow, letting her lead in this dance that had somehow never made it into my schooling. Soon they opened to me, and I felt her tongue brush my lips, as if asking for entry, something I had no power to deny.

It was several minutes before she pulled back. I couldn’t help but let my eyes sweep over her face, the green of her eyes, the wind induced rosiness of her cheeks, the red of her lips.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered.

“Some things can’t be quite understood by the brain, Emily. You have to let the heart step in, and trust that it won’t lead you astray.”

I didn’t know how to answer, so instead I kissed her once more.

When she pulled away, she put a hand to my face. “It’s late, and you’re freezing.”

“I’m not!”

“You’re shaking,” she reasoned gently.

“In all honesty, that has nothing to do with the wind,” I admitted.

She smiled. “Oh Emily.” She stroked her thumb across my cheekbone. “It’s time to say goodnight.”

I bowed my head, flustered at how much I didn’t want to, at how I wanted this night to last forever. “Okay.”

She brought her lips to my ear. “’Tis just good night, not goodbye or farewell.” She kissed my cheek then took me by the hand, leading me back to the stairs, back into the school, back into the life I had been raised to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady


	9. Kelley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the couple days delay on this. Hope you enjoy!

_Alex,_

_My love—_

_My body, mind, and soul call out for thee. Why didst thou desert me? Couldst thou not see that mine eyes held nothing but the highest esteem for thee? Did he turn thy heart so firmly away from me that thou hast forgotten my love?_

_What should I do, when thou are not here to tether my wistful mind to my body? What should I do-_

My eyes snapped open then quickly slammed shut against the bright shafts of light coming through my window. My head was aching in the familiar yet fatiguing way it always did after I had imbibed in alcohol. It made me want to pull a pillow over my head, blocking everything out in favor of the refuge of sleep. In sleep I could dream, dream of what had been and what could have been.

My mind began to drift, imagining just that. It supplied me with images of Alex, of the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, of the haughty way she would toss her head around, knowing how the light gleamed off of her hair. I was deep into memories of how those chestnut locks had looked, spread across my pillow, when a different memory snapped me upright in bed.

The sailor’s saloon. The police raid. Tobin breaking off. Emily…

Emily.

What had I been thinking? Well, I knew the answer to that. I had been thinking about how her hair had looked impossibly soft in the moonlight, about how her cheeks had flushed pleasantly due to the cold and my flattery. I had been thinking about her lips, and not about protecting my heart from the anguish that came with pining for something you could never have.

A bell began to ring downstairs, and I pushed myself from my bed. I forced myself to look at the empty bed against the wall as I dressed, reminding myself that Alex was gone, that she had fallen in love and gotten married, that she was happy with someone who wasn’t me. A servant came in to help me lace up my stays, and I managed to fake a smile, a question into what would be served for breakfast. I pushed down the heartache; my family had made it very clear that they were growing impatient waiting on me to settle down. Every day, the hair on my father’s head was growing a little grayer, my mother’s letters were getting more and more concerned. I was to come to Eden, keep my hands and thoughts to myself, and find a match. Growing enamored with my roommate or any other woman had never been part of the plan.

I choked down a couple of pieces of toast in silence across from Tobin. If the bags under her eyes were any sign, she had perhaps gotten even less sleep than I had, leaving my already quiet friend more taciturn than normal.

I could feel Emily looking at me, willing me to turn in her direction, but I couldn’t. I kept my eyes on my plate and admonished myself for involving her in the already sordid matters of my heart.

Sunday passed slowly, first with chapel and then with a long rest following lunch. I tried to force my mind to quiet, to sink into the oblivion of sleep, but it refused. Instead, I tossed and turned and fidgeted, my body just as restless as my mind.

When the rest hours had concluded, I grabbed my shawl and slipped from the school. I needed to get away from the ever growing weight of Emily’s eyes, somehow hopeful and hurt all at once. I trudged through the grass, towards the trees at the far edge of the lawn, and my mind unhelpfully supplied me with a memory of a warmer day, one of unbridled happiness.

Alex had been in a joyous mood, still reveling in the attention her birthday had provided her. Indeed, she had placed her head in my lap and forced me to read out the letters from her relatives and friends at home, wishing her the best. I had been powerless to refuse, willing to do anything if it made her smile. After a rest hour spent sharing her bed, we had redressed and come to these trees, Alex humming beneath her breath as we walked.

_“I love flowers,” she sighed, trailing her fingers through the verbena growing along the path. “They’re so… delicate. And beautiful. And lovely.”_

_“Like you,” I said quietly._

_She gave me a positively wolfish smile. “I’m anything but delicate, as I think you well know.”_

_I met her gaze. “But you are lovely. The loveliest person I’ve ever seen.”_

_Her face softened, veering away from flirtation, towards something like adoration. “Kelley. My Kelley.”_

_Emboldened by her use of a possessive, I clambered to stand upon a fallen tree. “Someday,” I declared, “You and I shall have a house that is full of flowers. The lawns will contain nothing but verbena, as far as the eyes can see. And inside, ever surface will have a vase of roses or violets or zinnias.”_

_She gave a tinkling laugh at the thought. “And how shall you pay for this grand house that doubles as a garden?”_

_I pressed my lips together, thinking. “I shall become a bank robber.”_

_“Oh Kel…”_

_I put my hands on my waist. “What? You don’t think I’m tough enough?”_

_In a flash, her arms were encircling my hips, spinning me off of the log, giving me no choice but to squeal and cling to her. She placed me back on the ground with a smirk. “You are plenty tough, but unfortunately you are but slight.”_

_“I am not-”_

_“You’re practically the size of a woodland creature!” she declared. “In fact, perhaps that is what I should call you. You’ll be my little squirrel.”_

_“I am not little,” I argued, but she cut me off with a swift kiss._

_“You are, but do not take offence. For though you are but little, you are quite fierce,” she assured me, paraphrasing from A Midsummer Night’s Dream._

_I couldn’t stop myself from melting, my body leaning further into hers, wanting nothing more than to live in the realm of her love forever._

“Kelley!” I startled, ripped from my memories, and turned to see Tobin behind me. “I’ve been looking for you.”

I couldn’t help but heave a heavy sigh, turning back to the trees, finding them devoid of Alex’s form.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I scowled. She didn’t reply, instead merely sitting on a nearby stump, her eyes following me as I began to pace. After several minutes, I couldn’t take it. “Are you going to say anything?”

“Well, if nothing is wrong, then there’s nothing to say, is there?”

I thought momentarily about throwing myself at my closest friend, throttling her for her ability to see straight through me, and perhaps a younger, less drained version of myself would have. Instead I leaned back against a tree, paying no attention to the way the bark bit into the skin on the back of my arms.

“I kissed her,” I whispered.

Her eyebrows raised ever so slightly, and then she nodded. “And she didn’t take it well?”

I scoffed. “She kissed me back.”

“Oh. Then what is the problem?”

“The problem? Tobin,” I groaned, “I’ve already seen where this leads. I know how this story ends, I have already heaped this heartbreak upon myself-”

“Emily isn’t Alex.”

I hated myself for the way my entire body reacted to Tobin saying her name, as if it could conjure her into being. “I know that.”

“Then why are you out here hiding?”

“I’m not,” I lied insistently.

“If you’re worried that she doesn’t return your feelings, you needn’t bother. Any person could see from the way she looks at you-”

“Stop it-”

“’Tis true.” She picked up a leaf from the ground and began to spin it carefully between her fingers. “She admires you greatly.”

“I’m frightened.” The words escaped my lips before I had the chance to stop them.

“Of her?”

I gave a careful, reluctant nod. “I fear that if I fall again, I shan’t be able to pick myself up.”

“Well… that’s a risk you have to take, I suppose. But,” she gave a lopsided grin, “You’ll always have me to help you find your feet.”

I smiled, digging the toe of my boot into the ground. “Any chance you want to leave Christen and take me as your paramour instead?”

She gave a most unladylike snort, her eyes dancing with mirth. “As enticing as your offer is, I must decline.”

I gave an overly offended gasp. “But why? What does she have that I don’t?”

“To start with, a sweet and pleasant temperament.”

I batted my eyes and folded my hands against my cheek, making myself into a mocking portrait of gentility. “What about now?”

She tilted her head, studying me. “Tempting… but still no.”

“You wound me.”

She released the leaf, watching it float to the ground, then stood up. “You cannot avoid her forever.”

“You underestimate the force of my will,” I smiled.

“Kelley…”

“I… It was a moment of weakness,” I sighed. “And I’m not avoiding her, I am merely giving her the space needed to realize that last night was a lapse in judgement.”

She gave me a beseeching look. “You will achieve nothing past wounding Emily and tormenting yourself.”

“Yes, well…” I turned towards Edenwood, gazing up to where its windows loomed like eyes. “Life in itself is a torment. And all we can do it try to weather it.”

“Kelley, you could-”

“Come.” I held out my hand, beckoning her forward so that we could lock arms. “Let me help you with your needlework.” She swallowed back a groan but allowed me to steer us away from all mentions of Emily, towards the school.


	10. Emily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!
> 
> Sorry for the delay, I just had a little bit of writer's block. But I'm back!

It had been several days since Kelley had kissed me on the roof, several long days of being politely ignored, without any explanation whatsoever.

I didn’t understand.

She was the one who had invited me to sneak out with her and the other girls. She was the one who had helped me make my way home. She was the one who had invited me to the roof.

Had I somehow, in my ignorance and inexperience, done something to offend her?

If this was the case, I wished that she would just tell me what grievance I had committed. Instead, I was left with no answers and no refuge other than my studies, which I threw myself into with despondent devotion.

I studied the scriptures as I never had before, letting the words of Christ wash over me. I prayed I would be more like the apostles, more humble, more patient, more willing.

I tried fruitlessly during my music lessons to make my fingers flow seamlessly across the pianoforte’s keys, with little success. No matter how closely I followed Miss Doyle’s instructions, the music evaded me, coming out pained and discordant. And yet, I kept trying, as if the notes held the secret to my woes and worries.

Embroidery was more of the same. The thread knotted and snagged, and I somehow left every piece of muslin looking as if it had been rescued from the claws of a cat. Every time I presented a newly completed piece to Miss Cheney, she would sigh before pointing out the small ways I had improved, and the multitude of areas I still needed to work on.

After my disastrous first encounter with Mr. Harrington, I had resolved to keep my head down and my mouth shut. No amount of being right would justify the humiliation of being punished again. So I kept my eyes on my desk, and my thoughts to myself, no matter how much I wished to do otherwise.

Each evening before dinner, we were all called together to practice singing, as many of us would be expected to sing our future husbands and children to sleep, not to mention sing in church. This was where it was hardest to be ignored by Kelley. Unlike our other lessons, where she and Tobin would sequester themselves at the back of the room, the music teacher requested we stand according to our vocal parts. Thus, Tobin would stand to the far left, her unexpectedly high and clear soprano mixing in with Julie Johnston’s, and Kelley would stand with the mezzos. I in turn would mix in with the other altos, always ending up just a few feet away from Kelley. The first few days I stared and hoped, waiting for those hazel eyes to swing over to me, but they did not. She kept them steadfastly on the sheet music in her hands, only glancing up occasionally at the instructor.

It had been nearly a week of being ignored by Kelley, and I had become almost resigned to it. Whatever had happened… it was apparently gone and done. The best I could do was put it from my mind. That’s precisely what I was trying to do when Rosemary found me by the window in the parlor.

“Head in the clouds, Miss Sonnett?” she asked with a sickly-sweet smile.

I turned away from where I had been staring out the pane of glass. “I suppose,” I murmured.

“I suppose,” she began, casting her eyes slyly to each side, smiling at her friends, “that growing up with a sister who outshines you in every possible way must have done wonders for your ability to keep entertained. How lucky for you.”

My cheeks burned, and I sighed. “Can I help you with something, Miss Lavelle?”

“I was just wondering how you had learned to fill the long hours.”

“A lot of time reading, I suppose.”

“And writing.” Before I could stop her, she plucked the notebook from the bench beside me. “That’s what you do in here, isn’t it?”

I jumped to my feet. “Give it back.”

“Now,” she tutted, “That’s not quite a generous disposition, is it?”

I licked nervously at my lips and tried again. “Rosemary- please. Give me back my notebook.”

“Of course, Miss Sonnett. After I examine it.” She began to slowly flip through the pages. “My, you have been hard at work, haven’t you?” She pursed her lips into a cruel smile. “Surely such… dedication deserves an audience?”

My stomach plummeted like a stone. “Rosemary-”

“Ahem, Miss Lavelle will do just fine,” she tutted with a shake of her head. “Let’s see what inspired brilliance you have to share with us. Ah! This one.” She cleared her throat, ensuring she had the attention of anyone who wasn’t already watching or listening, and began to read my words in a loud, clear voice.

“The stream flows,

Called forth by the Lord.

It trips over rocks and pebbles,

Guiding each creature yonder.

They follow each bend, each turn,

Duteous and subservient,

Never asking anything more of their Maker.

How envious I grow!

O- how I long for their obedience,

That I might bend my spine and my will so easily.

Instead, I fight the current,

All the while pondering:

Why does my heart yearn for different waters?

Is this discordance a curse,

Chasing away any chance at happiness?

Or is it a gift that I have yet to unwrap?” ?

By the time she reached the end, the smile was wide across her face. “Is that what you think, Miss Sonnett? That the Lord hath gifted you? That you are extraordinary?” She laughed, and several girls joined in, their titters reverberating around my head until it ached. I sniffed back the approaching tears. “Oh Miss Sonnett. Surely you should know better by now.” She took a step forward, her eyes narrowing as they bore into my own. “You are anything but extraordinary. You may possess rare qualities, but they make you nothing but an oddity, an aberration.” She let my notebook slip from her fingers and it clattered to the floor. “You should take care not to forget that.”

She gave her head a toss and floated away, her small coterie falling in behind her. I stooped to collect my notebook, and a hand held out a page that had fluttered away. I glanced up to see Alyssa, her face pinched.

“It was a lovely poem,” she whispered lowly.

“Thank you,” I managed to croak out. I stood up and she did the same, holding her arms awkwardly, as if she wasn’t quite sure where they were supposed to be. She gave a solemn nod, then slipped from the room. I watched her go, and in the process caught a glimpse of Kelley watching me from just outside the doorway. I held her gaze for just a brief moment and then she was gone, somehow hurting me worse than Rosemary ever had.

X

I had tried to put the whole incident out of my mind, but failed miserably, Rose’s laughing mouth haunting me every time I closed my eyes. By the time it was time to go to sleep, I had a building headache to accompany the ache in my stomach. I pulled the blankets up to my chin and squeezed my eyes shut, begging the powers above to give the refuge of a dreamless sleep.

But half an hour later, Samantha’s light snores were filling our room and I was still resolutely awake. I tried counting sheep, tried reciting verses to myself, but nothing seemed to work. I was pondering whether or not I should give in and relight our lantern when the door to our chamber began to creep open.

I sat straight up in bed; surely this couldn’t be Rose again? Surely I had suffered enough at her hands for one day. I took a deep breath, ready to rouse Samantha from her sleep with a shout, and then a different brunette figure crept into view.

Kelley.

I stared at her for a moment in confusion. “What are you doing in here?” I finally whispered.

She beckoned with her hand to follow and I stubbornly shook my head. “It is past curfew, we’re not supposed to be out of bed.”

She gave a sigh and came closer. She leaned forward until her face was just a few inches from mine. “Please come,” she murmured, her hazel eyes dark and pained.

My chest gave a strange lurch and I reluctantly folded back my blankets, climbing from my bed and following her from the room. She led me up the same, rarely used staircase, taking me to the roof.

With only the cover of my thin nightgown, I immediately began to shiver, and I crossed my arms tightly. “What do you need?”

“What do _I_ need?” She shook her head. “Emily, why do you let her treat you this way?

My temper flared up inside of me. “Well I don’t recall seeing you come to my rescue earlier.”

Her eyes flashed. “I didn’t- I walked up after she had left. I didn’t hear what she had said to you, I didn’t even know what had happened until Rebecca told me later. If I had, I would have-”

“Ignored me? Pretended that I didn’t exist?”

The fight in her seemed to dampen. “I…”

I sniffed and turned back towards the door. “Good night, Kelley.”

She caught my arm and turned me around. “Don’t go.”

“Why should I stay?”

Her lips were on mine, and for a moment I considered just giving in, forgiving whatever coldness had been between us in favor of her sweet kiss. But then I gathered my wits and pulled away.

“Now you desire my company? After days of denying me even the friendliness of a glance? You cut me, Miss O’Hara,” I spat.

“I have wanted for your company every moment since we last kissed.”

“Do not attempt to disabuse me. It shan’t work.”

“No- I know how it must have seemed. Because I did try to distance myself. But you must understand-”

“I assure you that I do not. I have been consumed with confusion and anxiety, trying to figure out what I possibly could have done wrong. And I have reached the unfortunate conclusion that I did nothing wrong. Which lends me no understanding, just heartbreak that you somehow found fault in me when I did nothing to cause offense.”

“No. I swear to you, Emily. There was no fault, not even in the slightest sense. And that… that is the problem. You are intelligent beyond hope, as well as kind and warm and gentle and good tempered and-” She broke off and swallowed, as though she were nearing tears. “You are so good, Emily Sonnett. And it’s because of this that I fear you.”

I shook my head. “You fear me?”

She nodded. “I fear the way you make me feel. I fear that with you, I will be tossed into a tempest that I shall never escape.” She reached up and cupped my cheek. “And perhaps that is what I fear most all. That once I surrender myself to you that I won’t want to escape.”

I gasped at the wonderous meaning behind her words, but then steeled myself once more. “But you still think you must escape me? That I’m something you must run from?”

She gave her head the slightest shake, then leaned until her nose was nuzzling along my cheek. “Not at all. I just worry that someday you will wish to escape me, and then leave me heartbroken.”

I pulled back so that I could stare into her eyes. “I do not wish to ensnare you. But I think being yours- being held by you, being cherished by you- I don’t know what would possibly possess me to fly from you.” And then I kissed her once more.

From the roof, she led me to her roommate-less chamber, and wrapped me in her arms. We ended up laying on her bed, our mouths languidly becoming acquainted. Her hands began to wander, first on top of my nightgown, but then beneath, her fingers exploring my most hidden of places. It was terrifying- no, exhilarating- and I felt as if my body was no longer my own. It was molten, too hot even as I shivered beneath her hands. There were moments when I wondered if this was the tempest she spoke of. I certainly felt as if a might gale had been released within my body, making me quake. And when the storm within me reached its pinnacle, she kissed me, over and over so that she could swallow the gasps and sighs coming from my lips as my hips jerked beneath hers. Euphoria flooded my body and I felt certain that this was one storm I would never flee or seek shelter from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: @thetheatrelady

**Author's Note:**

> Would love to hear your thoughts!


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